Cupcake
by Two Guns and a Knife
Summary: It's still the same word, but sounds so different when different people say it. Theme Song: "If You Leave" by  Orchestral   Manoeuvres in the Dark.
1. Vanilla Chocolate Buttercream

****Recipe 1: **Vanilla Chocolate Buttercream**

She was so soft and sweet.

Like a simple vanilla cupcake with rich chocolate buttercream frosting on top.

Not too expensive to afford, and easy to swallow.

Not too much a burden to your stomach, and a saving grace to your mental health.

She smelled like cinnamon and honey.

So warm.

So familiar.

So tasty.

She always smiled, and never hesitated to said "Yes" whenever he wanted something.

**_Too bad that was back when she was sixteen._**

He lies on the pavement, unable to move or feel his arms and legs. She jumps out of the brand new sleek shining black Porsche Boxster and stands above him. He stares at the huge designer three-carat diamond wedding ring wrapped around her slender finger. "I've told you not to call me _Cupcake_!"


	2. Sugarless Whole Wheat Carrot Applesauce

**Recipe 2: Sugarless Whole Wheat Carrot Applesauce**

Cupcake," He teased.

She blushed.

"Cupcake," He breathed.

She whimpered.

"Cupcake," He whispered.

She moaned.

"Cupcake," He purred.

She melted.

"Babe," He flashed her his trademark 1000 Watt smile. "I thought you are off cupcakes."


	3. Sugarless Whole Wheat Coconut

**Recipe 3: Sugarless Whole Wheat Coconut Mango Pineapple**

They stare at each other. Cold, fierce dark brown eyes unblinking and unrelenting. This is a battle of pride and dignity. Both of them need to win, and neither wants to lose. Slowly yet purposely the two caramel skinned warriors circle each other, waiting for the perfect chance to deliver the fatal blow. Then suddenly they both move and charge at each other.

"Enough!" Two large, firm Mocha Latte hands grasp the fighting boys by the back of their collars and easily break them apart. Two pairs of angry teary eyes look up at their father's stern face and soft young lips start quivering immediately. The tall muscular handsome man sighs and gathers his sons gently into his arms. One in each arm, of course.

"What is it this time?" His wife walks into the room with their baby boy in her arm and narrows her turquoise blue eyes at the crying boys.

"He called me a Cupcake!" The 5-year-old Manoso twins yell at the same time furiously.


	4. Lemon Sherbet

****Recipe 4: **Lemon Sherbet ******

The 56-year-old beer-bellied, balding Trenton police sergeant's heart breaks into zillions and zillions of tiny, bitter pieces as he helplessly watches the pride, the joy, and the meaning of his life, his little princess, his only child, his precious Angelina Maria cry her broken, 15-year-old heart out in her mother's arms. He looks up pleadingly toward the ceiling of his lovely, cozy, two-story house as if praying silently. What have he done to deserve this? Why does God have to torment him like this? Why does Fate have to be such a mean, merciless bitch? After 6 long, anguish years of standing in the darkest corner watching the love of his life and his archenemy build up a happy fairy-tale-like life together, and wishing the three beautiful little boys were his, he has finally, finally found the right woman, the sweet and kind-hearted Lucy Morticia Fowler*****, settled down, and started his own perfect, dream family.

And then that fateful, cursed day 10 years ago, at the birthday party of Carl and Tiffany Costanza's youngest daughter Kathy, God had to play such a cruel joke on him: his blue-eyed blonde 5-year-old little Angel met that 7-year-old, midnight-dark-brown-eyed, milk-caramel-skinned youngest Manoso boy, and, unsurprisingly, immediately fell for him. From then on, everywhere he goes, she wants to follow. Whatever he does, she wants to try, too. She sees nothing but him. She wants no one else but him. But, alas, the handsome, smart, polite, and ever so perfect Leonardo Manoso treats her like just another ordinary neighborhood girl. And as if to add insult to injury, of all the girls in the Burg, he has to ask Anastasia Stankovic, Mary Lou and Lenny's green-eyed, wild-haired, not-so-bright trouble maker of a youngest child who, unlike his Angel, can't sing, dance, or play piano, to go to Prom with him.

Silently Joe Morelli wipes a drop of crystal tear away from his tired brown eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh as he thinks of the complicated history between he, Ranger, and Stephanie. Yes, now he finally realizes that pay back can really be such a bitch...

***Oh yes, this chapter is dedicated to you, my dear Margaret . **

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Dear Readers, please go to my profile page to take a look of Mrs. Joe Morelli.<strong>


	5. Raspberry Swirl

**Alternative Recipe 4: Raspberry Swirl**

Joe Morelli can feel a massive headache building inside his already pounding skull as his 7-year-old son JJ looks up at him with puffy teary eyes, sniffles, and bursts out wailing. _There we go again._ Morelli lets out a frustrated sigh and suppresses the compelling urge to look upward at the ceiling of his small cozy two-story house and whine "Why me?" when he picks up he and Terry's only child and holds him tight in his arms. This is really getting old, to be honest. The 43-year-old Trenton detective tells himself while his son cries his vulnerable soft young heart out. It happens on almost every neighborhood kid's birthday party, and all his friends, relatives and fellow cops never stop snickering and joking about it. He loves his baby boy with all his heart and all his life, but sometimes he really wishes that he could go back to the past to change history and make the brave, smart, beautiful 7-and-a-half-year-old Manoso twins and their mother his.

"What did Carlos and Félix do this time?" Morelli asks his son gently when the boy finally stops sobbing, though he already knows what the answer will be.

"They ate my cupcake!" Joseph Anthony "JJ" Morelli Junior whines and, once again, starts crying.


	6. Pineapple Upside Down

**Alternative Recipe 5: Pineapple Upside Down**

They go to the Yankees game anyway.

They arrive early. The Yankees Stadium is still half-empty. Joe Morelli leaves his seat to buy himself hot dog and beer. He misses the old Yankees Stadium. The new one is beautiful but it's not the same. The noon sun is scorching and his wife is not talking to him. They just had another fight, and things are still tense. But there was no way he was gonna waste the tickets. He always loves the Yankees and these tickets are not cheap. Like every little boy in the Burg, he dreamed of becoming an all star player like Joe DiMaggio and Lou Gehrig. So did his son, Anthony Joseph "AJ" Morell.

He walks through the noisy crowd and feels sorry for his only child. AJ is a much, much better athlete than he has ever been. But still that was not enough. No Major League scout ever came to AJ's games and he didn't get any baseball scholarship. But the boy was too stubborn to give up. He was willing to fight for a chance, any chance, so he practiced every day and worked his butt off. Until a car accident damaged his leg and smashed his dream. AJ could walk and run normally, the grim-faced doctor informed them, but he could never become a professional athlete. Tears flooded down Joe Morelli's face when he stood outside the hospital ward listening to his son's heartbroken sobbing. And Terry still blames him for encouraging their child's impractical fantasy.

"It's all your fault!" Terry screamed at him. She had never ever lost her cool. But that quiet, almost lovely afternoon, she finally snapped and screamed at him like a crazy bitch. She blamed him for everything. She hated his new job at NYPD. She hated their 65-years-old apartment building. She hated that they'd had to leave Trenton and everything behind just because he couldn't bear the sight of Stephanie and Ranger happily together. She hated that he wouldn't have married her if she hadn't accidentally gotten pregnant. She hated that he kept comparing AJ to Stephanie and Ranger's only son, Carlos Junior. He stared at Terry but couldn't say a word. Guilty as charged. Period. Unanimous vote. He just stood there wondering where their love, their passion, had gone. They keep fighting. They stay married. For the sake of AJ, their broken child.

He chews his over-priced hot dog and drinks his expensive beer. He slowly walks back to his seat and hands over the food and drink he bought. Terry likes pretzel. AJ loves ice cream. He also bought Coke and 3 buckets of popcorn. They sit in silence as the interleague game begins. The Yankees are playing against the Phillies. He never likes the Phillies. Stephanie once told him Ranger is a Phillies fan. He snorted. Ranger and baseball? Geez. He couldn't imagine Ranger liking anything. He didn't believe Ranger had feelings. He sometimes thought Ranger's blood is green. He didn't like the way Ranger looked at Stephanie. They returned to Trenton when Grandma Bella and Uncle Vito died. They returned to Trenton every Thanksgiving and Christmas. No one ever said anything about Ranger. Or Stephanie. But still he overheard things: Carlos Junior is 5 years older than AJ. He, surprisingly, was conceived after his parents got married. He's smart. He's cute. He looks like his father. He can speak Spanish. That's all he knows about Stephanie's child. He takes another sip of his Coke and lets out a smile. It's such a beautiful summer day. He has his wife and son by his side. Terry is still attractive. AJ is healthy. He can't ask more of life, can he?

"Now batting sixth for the Philadelphia Phillies, Carlos Manoso." The announcer announces and Joe Morelli's jaw drops. He looks at the huge screen above the centerfield bleachers and sees the rookie outfielder's face. He knows that face. He knows those eyes. He knows that name. The 2 Phillies fans sitting next to him start talking excitedly. Carlos Manoso. baseball's No.1 prospect. Switch hitter. Amazing arm strength. Great batting average. Clever base runner. Rumour has it that he knows how to pitch, too. 3rd generation Cuban American. New Jersey native. a bright promising future. The Phillies has just locked him up with a long-term deal. Slowly Joe Morelli closes his mouth. He dares not turn his head to meet Terry's eyes. He sits very straight and holds his breath. He cringes when all the Yankees fans let out a collective moan. A cold shiver creeps down his spine as the Phillies fans stand up and cheer for their young hero. Stephanie and Ranger's son has just hit a grand slam off the Yankees ace at his Major League debut, his very first at bat. He closes his eyes, and thinks of the day Stephanie ran him over with her brand new sleek shining black Porsche Boxster and yelled at him. He remembers the huge designer three-carat diamond wedding ring wrapped around her slender finger.

"I've told you not to call me _Cupcake_!" She looked so cute when mad.

No. She's no longer his Cupcake. Not anymore.


	7. Piña Colada

** Recipe 6: Piña Colada**

She lies in bed with her eyes tightly closed. She wants to pull the blanket over her head to shut out the sunlight and the world but sadly doesn't have any strength left. She knows she should get out of bed now. But she doesn't want to. She needs sleep. She needs peace. She's tired to the bone. She needs some time of her own. She tries to fall back into sleep, but somehow she just can't.

Downstairs in the living room the twins are fighting over TV. Somewhere in the house her youngest is giggling while playing with the cat. It's a bright summer day. She should be in the kitchen making snacks for her children. Whole wheat pancakes with organic maple syrup. Buckwheat blueberry muffins with cinnamon caramel topping. Baked potato chips with a pinch of sea salt or homemade tomato sauce. Yep, she knows how to cook. Yep, she's a good cook. Yep, she loves taking care of her little boys. But she's having one of those days, and there's nothing she can do about it. Even if she has already started feeling guilty.

She doesn't know when she fell asleep. She opens her eyes and slowly blinks and yawns. She smiles to herself. She's feeling much better now. She's just just about to sit up and get out of bed when she hears first the careful footsteps and then the whispers.

"What's wrong with Mommy?" Carlos sounds concerned.

"Why is Mommy sleeping?" Félix sounds worried. "Is she sick?"

"Mommy is fine." Ranger assures the boys and hugs them gently. "She just needs a cocktail."

"What is a cocktail?" Leo wants to know.

She bursts into laughing.


	8. To The Moon

**To The Moon**

**~The Epilogue to Alternative Recipe 5~**

The crowd waits excitedly.

Lester Santos grabs hold of the ball, squares his shoulders, and takes a deep calming breath. This is it. He's standing on the mound inside the Yankees Stadium, ready to throw the first pitch, at the All-Star Game Homerun Derby. He dreamed of becoming the world's best pitcher ever when he was a little boy. Not all dream can come true, he later realized. Turned out he wasn't that talented, and sometimes no matter how hard you tried, you were just not good enough. Santos looks toward the tall strong young hitter, and the kid gives him a nod. For a brief moment he mistook the kid for Ranger. Same eyes. Same build. Same smile. But little Carlos is now 3 inches taller than his dad. Santos breaks into a smile and throws the ball. Carlos Alexi Manoso swings his bat, and hits the ball all the way to the second deck. The crowd explodes. Santo's smile deepens into a grin, and throws another hanging breaking ball to the handsome young man he loves as his own. The crowd cheers again as the Phillies all-star outfielder hits the ball straight to the moon.

And Lester Santos will never ever forget the foul smell the day he and Tank helped Stephanie change her son's evil diaper.


End file.
